#a bunch of regular ink

[cattun]

Dunes upon dunes of sparkling blue dust in the caustic wastes. Churned into foamy clouds by the slightest breeze, it clings to cloth, burns exposed skin and easily fills nose and mouth with sour rot.

[carn-e-vil]

oh yeah.... im making aus now.... florist au but al haitham is a part time employee at the plant nursery tighnari owns and kaveh keeps running into him

[mechahero]

He’s grumbling, nose deep in his diary when he isn’t angrily scrawling away in it with the fluffy feather pen he’d grabbed beforehand. “Dear diary, you are never gonna believe this shit-”

[porloquevivoyo]

Obsessedddddddddd

[autobahnmp3]

im back and i have my supplies!

[thebibliosphere]

I am not attempting to be patronizing, and I did check your posts-have you tried E-Ink or CRT screens? I feel like there's got to be a decent quality CRT monitor at an e-waste place somewhere near you, and I feel like an Alphasmart might be a good option? A bunch of other options did show up-including nonKindle tablets-when I googled "E-ink typewriter", but I figured that might be a good place to start.

I actually asked a while ago for feedback on such screens and got some good info. (It probably didn’t show up because tumblr doesn’t like showing posts with links sometimes.)

It’s something I’m saving up for. In the meantime I’ve attached a Bluetooth keyboard to my phone because the OLED screen doesn’t seem to cause problems for me like regular LED.

[luvfy0dor]

“Your Handprint's on my Soul ♡⁠˖” BSD men x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol

warnings; established relationship (Fyodor only), first interactions, kisses, Dazais can be platonic or romantic

description; aus/tropes with BSD characters, inspired loosley by my old post about book types/tropes

A/n; CHAT IM SPEEDRUNNING THIS AS I WRITE THE A/N IM ONLY 2/3 OF THE WAY DONE W NIKOLAIS AND NO ONE ELSE IS DONE EXCWPT DAZAIS BULLET POINT AND ITS 2 HRS TILL POST TIME GOTTA LOCK IN ALSO TYSM FOR 700 💖💖💖

�� Osamu Dazai ⑅

• There was only one bed when Dazai appeared on your doorstep one evening. You don't know where he came from and he wouldn't tell you, but he would certainly tell you he wasn't letting you sleep anywhere but the bed, even if you wouldnt allow him to either.

ೃ⁀➷

'Knock knock knock' was the first thing you heard when you woke from your slumber in the middle of the night. You felt a little unsettled, but still tiptoed out of bed to the door, peering through the peephole only to see the big head of your coworker and friend on the other side of the door. You huffed and unlocked the deadbolt and opened up. "What are you doing here this late at night?" You asked, rubbing your right eye with the palm of your hand and yawning. "Oh, nothing much, just here for a stroll! It's been quite the long time no see, no?" He says, letting himself in and taking off his shoes at the door. "I saw you..." You peered over at the digital clock on your nightstand table down the hallway. "Like, 7 hours ago. And you texted me 3." You sigh and pull up your pajama pants. "Can I sleepover?" Your brows furrowed at his question.

"Can you sleepover- Osamu, we have work in the morning and- ugh, you know what, yeah, you're already here and it's raining, isn't it? How are you completely dry? I...I have so many questions that I'm not gonna ask right now. You can sleep in my bed, just don't touch anything else in my room, especially nothing in or on my nightstand, got it?" He shook his head and steered you towards your room with his hands on your shoulders. "Oh no, that'd be rude of me to take your bed! I'll take the couch." You shook your head and yanked him gently by the wrist. "No, you're taking the bed-" "why don't we both take the bed?" You were silent for a moment. "Yeah, sure, I don't want to keep going back and forth with this." You say with a sleepy shrug. He walked in front of you to your bedroom like he lived here on the regular and tossed his coat aside. You crawled back into the bed, pulling the covers up to your nose and feeling the bed dip beside you when Dazai crawled in too. He also took his fair share of the blankets, but you soon realized that Dazai was a blanket hog. "Oh my gosh, I'm gonna kick you if y'dont stop stealin' all the blanket!" You groan, yanking the soft material back towards you. "I am not stealing all the blanket, you're very dramatic." He says, rolling over and scooching closer so that he can still be completely covered by the blanket without yanking it back. Each time you moved, you bunched up more of the blanket and pulled it closer to yourself, leaving Dazai uncovered from his right foot to his knee. "And you call me a blanket hog." He starts to steal some of the comforter back, but you toss it over him and roll over to press your front against his, cuddling him. "You come to my house unannounced and steal my blankets..you can just be another source of heat if you wanna act like this." You sleepily say, eyes still closed as you slur out your words. His face was one of surprise for a moment before it melted into a smile. He put a hand on your head and pulled you closer. "And you know what? That's fine with me."

⑅ Chuuya Nakahara ⑅

• Chuuya reminds me of that one soulmate au where whenever you get marks on your skin, they appear on your soulmates too. Small scars, ink scribbles, and bruises would often appear on Chuuyas, but never because of his own doing.

ೃ⁀➷

Earlier in the morning, Chuuya had noticed a new doodle on his forearm, this time it was one of a cat. Usually it was partially colored-in hearts or imperfect stars, but he always found other drawings of yours to be more amusing. He was currently relaxing on his couch after a long day of work, shoes kicked off and pajamas put on. He'd gotten bored of whatever nonsense he was watching on the TV and decided to examine the kitty on his arm a little more before picking up a pen and deciding to draw one next to it with a little heart in between them. He rolled his eyes at himself, Chuuya Nakahara, the best martial artist in Yokohama and port mafia executive was doodling kitty cats and hearts on his own arm to appease some soulmate he didnt even know. He sighed and leaned back again. It didn't take long for you to notice and quickly scribble a reply that read "Wow, finally. [poorly drawn eye roll emoji] took you long enough to actually interact w/ me! Started to think I didn't have a soulmate." You felt giddy over the whole thing. Yeah, it was stupid, but he drew a cat in love with the cat that you drew! This was the interaction that you had been waiting for since middle school when all the other kids were writing back and forth with their soulmates so much that they'd make frequent trips to the bathroom to wash off old pen ink since they had no phones to text with yet. Teachers hated it, but everyone was already willing to put their education on the back burner for these, essentially, randos. Not Chuuya, though. Chuuya never liked writing on his skin, the way the ballpoint dragged across his pale flesh made him shiver, and so he never replied to you. His focus on other goals also contributed to that ignorance.

After many years though, he finally decided to entertain the whole idea. Chuuya didn't care about who his soulmate was, if he found someone that wasn't them and he loved them, then that was that. He didn't think the universe should decide the only person he could truly be with, so he dated on his own accord. He checked his arm for your reply as if he was checking a watch and he watched the ink appear on his arm, letter by letter and stroke by stroke. He smiled a little and grabbed his pen again. "I never really cared to, no offense." You scoffed when you read that, crossing out the no. "Full offense taken. Anyways, where you from?" He thought on whether or not he really wanted to tell you, so he decided to play it safe. "I'm not telling you that immediately, what are ya, crazy? How old are you?" The number 21 quickly appeared. "And your name?" You started writing out letters, but the ink quickly faded. Chuuya raised an eyebrow and went to write out a couple stray question marks, but the writing came back in a different color. The ink was blue this time. "Y/n." "Okay, y/n, not that you couldn't be lying, I live in Yokohama, Japan. Can I get your number to make this easier?" You smiled and fist pumped. "Yeah, it's ---/---/----." You received a message about four minutes later. "This is better, I have work in the morning and I don't want to have to scrub off any more ink than this tomorrow." You laid in bed, perpendicular to the mattress with your arms hanging off the edge of the bed as you typed out a reply. Your conversation went on for another hour getting to know eachother before he told you that it'd be best for him to go to bed. You wished him a goodnight and he did the same. You knew it'd take a while to build a strong friendship and maybe even relationship, but the thought made you excited nonetheless.

⑅ Fyodor Dostoevsky ⑅

• When I think of my own highschool academic greatness (I'm failing algebra2/trig) I think of Fyodors geniusness and how much highschool/college aus remind me of him. I don't know if he'd try to juggle a relationship and school, but if he did he'd help you be the best student possible while securing that valedictorian title for himself.

ೃ⁀➷

Fyodors slim hand gripped his pencil loosely and moved it acrossed the paper he was given for a written assignment. His hair was pulled back in a super small pony tail and his eyes flickered over to the clock every now and again, waiting for the bell to ring with each passing second. He promised to meet you in the library during lunch to study for your AP Bio test you had coming up at the end of the week. He never minded helping you study, it'd help him retain the knowledge anyways. Finally, the familiar 'ding' sounded throughout the school and he packed up his stuff and left. He walked through the hallways and down the stairs to the library where you were already waiting for him. You smiled and waved him over, opening your school-loaned laptop. "Hey Fedya. I know we always spend lunches together but like, thank you for helping me, I'd be screwed otherwise." You say with a small laugh. He smiles and sits down next to you. "No problem, I don't mind, I did really well in that class anyways." He said while watching you type in your password and pull up an assignment. "Yeah, it's just about- oh! You kept the ponytail in?" You asked him with a smile. You had put his hair up that morning while waiting for the first bell. "Ofcourse I did. It keeps my neck cool." He tells you, tracing shapes on the small of your back with his thumb as he read over the assignment. "This is easy, Myshka, what's the trouble?" "I can't grasp ecology." You say, feeling yourself start to nod off. He raises an eyebrow and hums. "Well, do you sleep during your class like this?" He grins a little. You hum in denial and open your eyes again, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. "No, I just stayed up late last night cramming and stuff..." You say, resting your head against your fist. "Well that's probably why you're having trouble, you work when you should be sleeping."

You knew he was right, you had other classes that you were doing work for and you had put AP Bio on the back burner because you, a) didn't want to do it, b) didn't think you could do it, and c) saw that you'd feel more successful seeing all those 0's in other classes turn into grades. "I know, I know." You groaned. "But maybe we can just get this one done quick since my laptop is already open." You reaffirm and lean your head on his shoulder. He nods and re-reads the question before asking you what answer you'd pick first and why. You told him and he told you if you were right or wrong, briefly explaining why you were incorrect if that was the case. You were only 5 questions in before Fyodor realized you weren't answering him. He looked to his side and realized you had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He smiled and closed your laptop for you and let you sleep against him for a little while, knowing he'd finish it with you later, very determined to help you get all of your work finally done so you could relax. You clearly needed it.

⑅ Nikolai Gogol ⑅

• Nikolai would be a great, flirty barista, which is why I think coffee shop au would be perfect for him. His ability would be of great use winning over a couple cents in tips as well as your heart.

ೃ⁀➷

When you walked into your favorite, local coffee shop, the first thing you noticed was an unfamiliar face behind the counter. A tall man with long, braided white hair stood with a shaker in hand, clearly working hard to perfect s customers drink order. His eyes literally up when he saw you walking towards the counter, quickly pouring the liquid into a scribbled-on cup and capping it. "I'll be with you on one minute!" He says with a toothy grin, handing the drink to the lady waiting on the far side of the shop. He quickly returns to the cash register to take your order. "Hey! How can I help you?" He asks you and straightens out his apron. "Hi, uhm, can I have a (favorite drink), please?" He punched some stuff into the cash register and the visible screen in front of you showed you your total. "Anything else?" His eyes stared back into your own, making your heart race in your chest when you noticed just how beautiful he was. His differently pigmented eyes and sharp jawline along with the way his pointed teeth flashed when he smiled had your cheeks heating up pretty quickly. Not to mention his hair and physique.

As he was about to point out your staring with a cheeky expression, you muttered a 'yes.' He nodded. "Okay, your total is $4.20." You pulled out the first bill that wasn't a $1 from your wallet and handed it to him, Nikolais eyebrows raising when you put a $20 in his hands, but he stuck it in the register and counted up your change. "Okay, $15.80 is your change, can I get a name?" He asked you while giving you your change before grabbing a cup and sharpie. "Y/n." You quickly said, dropping all of the $15.20 in the top jar. "Ohhhh, wow! Y/n might as well take me on a date with a tip that big~!." He giggles and turns to make your drink for you while you wait with a warm face and stomach full of butterflies. "I don't think I'd mind taking you out on one." You say with a sense of confidence. "Hm, I might have to take you up on that." It's not long before he has your drink made, using a glowy portal to grab the sharpie on the counter relatively far away and scribbling something in your cup again. "Alright, here ya go! Have a good one!" He hands the drink to you, smiling a little bit when he feels your hand brush against as you take it from him. "Thank you, you too." You call back, turning around and walking away. Once you're out of the café, you rotate the cup 360° to figure out what he wrote on it, only to find ten digits acrossed the plastic. You smiled and your heartbeat picks up ten fold. You make sure to take a picture of it in a good lighting to ensure the visibility of all of the numbers, you might just have to arrange a date with him now.

A/n; AHHHHHHHHHHHH next time event post <3

[blackynsupremacy]

WHEN I THINK OF YOU

ooh, baby

anytime my world gets crazy

all i have to do to calm it

is just think of you

pairing: nicholas a. chavez x black!fem!reader

part two: a glamorous life series

read part one

summary: it’s the year 1987 and you’re an heiress of one of the most affluent african-american families in the nation. you’re still reeling from the double date with cooper, valerie, and nicholas. that night when he confronted you changed something within you. you can’t seem to get him off of your mind, so you try to occupy yourself with studying and writing new compositions to ease your wandering thoughts. that is until you’re required to attend, present, and perform at a networking gala of the elite with your parents. their immense pressure of high expectations only builds up within you and you run to a secluded garden to find some sort of peace, only for nicholas to stumble upon you in your panicked state.

contains: eighties au, songfic, luxury vibes, enemies to lovers, slow burn, mention of wet dreams, swearing, alcohol consumption, slight mutual pining, reader can be a bit toxic, character development, angst, anxiety, hurt/comfort, heart to heart between nick and reader, reader’s parents are a trip, insecurity, fluff.

taglist: @sabrinasopposite @supaprettyg @xoxoglittergossip @tryingtograspctrl @ellethespaceunicorn @stereotypicalbarbie @hnch33rios @jkr820 @simply-the-best23 @camiesully @elitesanjisimp @gxuxhdjdu @afrogirl3005 @rosiestalez

a/n: likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! if you want to be added to the taglist let me know!

“ugh, damnit. that’s shit!”

you let out an aggravated groan as you’ve needed to go back to square one on this presentation. your finger repeatedly hitting the “backspace” button of your macintosh keyboard. you’ve been playing around with the new program titled “powerpoint” that had been freshly released by microsoft. your teeth sunk into your pouty, bottom lip as you were seated in the mini office you created of the luxury penthouse apartment that wasn’t far from your university. the large glass window reflected the golden hues of the sunny afternoon as the skyscrapers mingled with the clouds as a few airplanes flew overhead. a forest green fountain ink pen was being flicked back and forth between your fidgeting fingers. you frantically bounced your knees, your crossed legs clenching tighter with each of tick of the clock on the wall. there was a tingle deep within your stomach, both a mix of pain and pleasure. the pain was from the pressure of tomorrow night’s networking gala. all of the top families, including yours and valerie’s, were supposed to be in attendance. this wasn’t just any gala where you dress to the nine’s, get your photos captured, and rub elbows with the crème de la crème. this was the type of gala to get your name and/or business circulating as the future of whatever brand your parents dominated throughout the room. this included surgeons, politicians, lawyers, and corporate executives. there was going to be presentations, business proposals, and of course entertainment all demonstrated by the young, ambitious, and wealthy. you look at it more like a dog show. a bunch of hot shit loaded parents that love to compare and contrast each other’s children like they were the diamond rings or cuban imported cigars they purchased on the regular. not only did you have to present a fresh and new business proposal for l/n technological enterprises, but you also had to perform some pieces for the guests on the grand piano, all to show that you were “well-rounded”.

as the heiress of one of the few affluent african american families in your area, a lot of eyes would be on you that night, especially the scrutinizing gaze of your own father, f/n l/n, the current ceo of l/n technological enterprises. your family’s reputation held an immense value to him. you were the only child he and your mother had, so he didn’t cut corners when it came to how you were raised. he ensured you attended the top schools, learned the vocabulary of l/n enterprises, and that you took an extracurricular that gave you an air of elegance, beauty, and grace. that’s how you were introduced to the grand piano. despite the repetitive practicing of scales, chords, and arpeggios by the strictest of piano instructors, you’ve actually grown to love the instrument and performing altogether. the bottom line was that you were gonna be the face of the l/n line of business by any means necessary. you father explained that their eyes would be on you because they expected nothing, but failure from a young, black woman coming up in the corporate world. it was a fucking shame. the society as you knew it was constantly changing and there were still people who were so stuck in their ways due to the culture of over twenty years ago. you felt like that you shouldn’t have to prove your worth to those prejudiced critics, but at the same time, you want to show them that you can do what they do and do it better. regardless of race or sex.

although, you had that stinging anxiety, there was another thing bubbling in your stomach: a rush of excitement. not really towards the event itself, but towards him. the only man you could think about without recoiling in disgust. the only man that you’d ever want to give a shot in this lifetime: nicholas alexander chavez. the thoughts of him kept racing through your mind as you remember that fateful night when you two first met. let’s just say you didn’t really welcome him with open arms as he attempted to do for you. you were just so fed up from the past that you believed all of the men within your social standing were cocky, narcissistic, and materialistic bastards that insist a woman puts out on the first date, but refuses to let her finish first and still, they claim to be top of the food chain. nicholas chavez does come from a bloodline of wealthy, successful lawyers, but the more you think about it, he was an open minded down-to-earth individual that valued integrity and earned respect rather than buying it off others like a typical yuppie asshole. speaking of assholes, you were one-hundred percent in that area towards him during that evening out on the town. this man was gracious enough to give you chance after chance to redeem yourself, but you kept going with your vicious attitude and devious scheme to bring out the worst in him. you pushed that button so far that he rightfully confronted you on your brash behavior, publicly at that. after he did so, you hated him less and desired him even more once your mood turned around. after apologizing, you two had a great time for the rest of the night and you assumed that after he’d drop you off that he would keep in touch. a twinge of hurt hit your chest each day when you look at your telephone with expectancy. you were hoping that he’d search the phone book or the call the operator to reach your line but, there was no word from nicholas.

you’d given him the benefit of the doubt. perhaps he was busy with his studies, spending time with family, or hanging out with cooper or his other friends. you couldn’t blame him for not wanting to keep in touch because you were being an asshole. you were reluctant to try to seek out for him, but with the this deadline of the gala, you were swamped with even more stress. you were determined of one thing though: that the next time you’d see nicholas chavez, you were going to show him the natural good side of you that he should’ve seen the first time you’ve met. you’re not necessarily a terrible human being. you have flaws, of course, your bitterness just got the best of you that night. you were going to be cordial and collected, yet still direct and outspoken. those enchanting thoughts of nicholas haunted you throughout the week. they didn’t cease when you found yourself daydreaming, or maybe even hallucinating that he was even here in your apartment. you could be doing the most mundane tasks and hear his voice teasingly whisper your name, the ghost of his kiss lingering on your skin, or you’d envision his strikingly handsome face whenever you slept. his burly arms would snake around your waist, holding you up so close within the shield of his body as if you were to be taken from him for good. he’d never allow that to happen. when primping yourself in the mirror, your heart would instantly flutter at the thought of him telling you how beautiful looked, whether you wore makeup or not.

it went from bad to worse when after a long day of studying and shopping with valerie, you treated yourself to a candlelit bubble bath. your nude, exhausted body soaked within the white sud-filled, rose scented water. your brown eyes shut tightly and your breath hitched within your chest. you envisioned nicholas’ tall, sculpted, and nude body loom over yours from behind. his large, tanned palm would smoothly glide along the melanated skin of your bare neck, chest, and navel. the cold metal of the rings he’d possessed on some of his fingers would send goosebumps with every touch as they slid further and further until finally reaching to where you wanted—no, needed him the most. nicholas would be smart enough to tell if it’s been a long time since you’ve been intimately served properly. a smug little grin would play upon his lips when he got straight to business. before you could hear him call you a good girl for taking it all so well, your body jolted awake when you almost drowned in your bathtub due to a fucking wet dream. such a dumb way to die. fuck, fuck, fuck! nicholas’ effect on you was serious.

“i don’t know. i-it’s just when things get crazy, i can’t help, but to think about him i—ugh, it’s not fucking funny, valerie!” you frustratingly shout, chucking one of your satin pillows at your best friend. valerie was in stitches, hysterically laughing on your satin duvet after you told her about the thoughts you’ve been having about her new boyfriend’s best friend. it was now the afternoon before the gala and everything you needed to prepare and practice for was finally completed. you had a few short hours to yourself until valerie stopped by your apartment. she was there at first to inform you of the news that she and cooper koch were officially an item after they ventured out on a couple more dates. they were keeping it lowkey from the public to avoid any drama until it was the right time. as her best friend, you were happy for her! you gave her a warm embrace, signifying your congratulations. it was all happy and what-not before you switched the subject of the conversation to nicholas chavez.

“oh—but it is, haha! if him getting you together in the restaurant wasn’t funny enough, this takes the cake.” valerie squealed out. she catches and hugs the pillow against her chest and sits herself upright with her legs crossed. you huff out a breath with a perturbed look on your face before valerie continues to speak,

“i told you that you were gonna be into nicholas, but damn, girl! you’re already fantasizing about him like that?—you got it bad.”

“heh.” you scoff, shaking your head with your arms crossed, “you know what’s the most fucked up part of it, valerie?”

“dish.” she urges, her eyes not pulling away from you.

“i’ve never heard from him since the date.”

“you mean—he hasn’t called? you don’t think he’s checked the phone book?”

you shook your head.

“not even the operator?”

“nope.” you reply with a pop of your lips.

“that’s odd, y/n. i thought that after you apologized, that you two hit it off for the rest of the night.”

“that’s what i’m saying! it’s confusing as hell.”

“maybe it’s possible karma? i mean, you were a bit of a—”

“bitch, if you finish that sentence, i will throw you out quicker than flo jo.”

valerie raises her hands up in surrender with a chuckle.

“well, shit! okay—look, you just gotta be patient. you know that nicholas is a busy college student like us, right? plus, he’s just a guy, so don’t sweat it, y/n. you’ve already got enough on your plate with this gala tonight.” valerie stated, standing from her position to approach you with a comforting hand on your tense shoulder. after taking a drawn out breath, you deliberately nod and lean your head on valerie’s shoulder.

“you’re right, val. i’m just ready to get this dog show over with. you know how my father gets if i don’t meet his standard of excellence.” with a roll of your eyes, you take a step away from her. for the rest of her brief visit, you both continue to converse about the possible logistics of tonight’s event over a light snack of raspberry sorbet at the bar in your kitchen. you both bursted out in a cacophony of laughter after valerie dished out some juicy socialite gossip. there was a beat of silence and valerie took a stab at breaking the ice one final time.

“you know, y/n, a little birdie told me that the chavez family would be in attendance tonight…” she trailed off to wash out her now empty glass. you stayed silent and send her a piqued, yet irked glare.

“what the hell does the chavez family got to do with me?—that little birdie wouldn’t happen to be your precious koch boy, would it?”

“mm-mm.” she murmured with a shrug. “just make sure you look extra fine tonight, okay?”

you squint your eyes, sliding more sorbet into your mouth. her and cooper are really a match made in heaven: rich, beautiful, and meddling brats.

“you cryptic bitch. you bug me out so much, you make me want to do a line. with my luck, nicholas would avoid me like the plague.” you dryly spoke as you stood up from your seat to clean out your own glass. you and valerie share another moment of laughter and she takes her leave to get ready for the gala. when finally alone, you promptly make your way to your walk-in closet. this closet was your sanctuary that contained the finest brands of clothes, shoes, and accessories of your era. you walk a few feet in, and your eyes land on the sleek, black strapless maxi dress with a bit of a low-cut in the front. it was simple, sexy, and most of all, elegant. your mother got it specially ordered and exclusively designed for you for this night alone. despite her being an overbearing tight-ass sometimes, you’d appreciate gestures like this. plus, that woman had an eye for fashion. before performing your hygienic routine, you call up your beauty team, mack and lori, to ease the burden of hair and makeup. you don’t usually mind performing your own beauty routine regularly, but this was one of those nights when it was crucial to look and be the best. once they gave you their confirmation, you use the next few hours to pamper your body in the best of your soaps, lotions, and perfumes. from face to feet, every part of your melanin was cleaned, polished, and glowing. as if timing weren’t perfect enough, mack and lori buzzed in. you enthusiastically give them access to come up to your place and they begin to work their cosmetic magic on your natural features. during the process, you all got caught up in amicable chatter, juicy gossip, and wise-cracking.

it was nearing fifteen minutes until the event started. you were clad in the elegant black number you’ve chosen. the dress embraced every single curve and dip of your figure as it effortlessly cascaded down to the floor. your arms were adorned by a set of matching opera gloves as your neck with the eighteen-karat, silver chained, diamond tennis necklace. lori made up your face with her god-gifted hands as she went for the neutral base with a sultry smokey eye, and topping it off with a bold, ruby lip. mack had hooked your hair all the way up with a farrah fawcett type blowout, making your natural hair fluffy, wavy, light, and bouncy. with a thousand thank you’s, you paid them both handsomely for their services before you strutted into the limousine your parents sent in front of your place. when you entered the vehicle, you were somewhat relieved that they didn’t ride with you this time. the last thing you needed was your father’s perfectionistic lecture about your work/school life and your mother’s nagging about your personal life for the umpteenth time. during the quiet ride, you exchanged some friendly small talk with the driver and went over some important mental notes for this daunting task of a presentation. you were feeling that pain of anxiety within your stomach again, but it’s dissolved by the memory of nicholas’ focused eye contact when he kissed your hand the other night. that thought alone gave you a sense of relief, yet longing. what if valerie was right? if the chavez family were to be in attendance, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you bumped into nicholas. in his presence, would you be a little stammering fool? perhaps a kind, sophisticated young socialite? maybe even a raging, spoiled brat that was pissed that he didn’t even bother to call you over the past week? anywho, you’ve got bigger fish to fry when the limousine finally pulls up to the valet station of the golden-lit venue where the gala was being held. here goes something.

after the driver politely escorts you out of the vehicle, the clicking of your heels resound as your feet hit the pavement. there was no time to gaze at the shimmering golden lights of the venue. there was no time to speculate who’s who and who they’re wearing this evening. hell, there wasn’t even time to think. you needed to focus on the goal at hand: check in, find your parents, and get this shit over with. two fine dressed middle-aged women sat at the check-in table. they briefly eye your figure in awe as you approach them before they ask for your name.

“l/n. y/n l/n.” you straightforwardly uttered, your eyes darted everywhere for any glimpse of your parents. the women nod, confirming your name on the extensive guest list. you courtly nod and mutter a soft “thank you” before you hastily turned around only to clash with a tall, burly figure. you’d figured that with the combination of the impact and the height of your heels, you were surely going to fall flat on your face in front of all these people, but, oh so gracefully, both of the stranger’s arms managed to prevent the incident.

“you need to be more careful next time. i’d hate to see you get hurt.” your ears instantly perk up at the sound of his familiar voice. his arms kept you steady as you held yourself upright to make sure that you weren’t hallucinating again. the tempo of your heart rate increased when your brown eyes locked with his. nicholas’ gaze softened from concern to instant realization once he registered that it was indeed you, y/n l/n, the eccentric best friend of cooper’s new girlfriend, valerie hill. he was actually trying to locate cooper for them to be seated, but fate had other plans of having you two cross paths again. after your first encounter, you were certainly a woman he couldn’t forget about even if he tried. a pleasant grin, more like a simper curved on his pink lips causing your face to rise with the heat of embarrassment.

“long time, no see, y/n. it’s definitely a pleasure to see you again.” he greets with his large hands still grasping onto your forearms. you thanked the stars for the opera gloves or he’d be sure to feel the goosebumps rise on your skin. with a nervous chuckle, you slowly pulled out of his grip to smooth your dress out. you didn’t want to give the paparazzi, or worse, your parents the wrong idea. you promptly composed yourself.

“i guess it isn’t so bad to see you again, nicholas.” you mentioned, in a saucy manner. your stomach flipped again when you hear a chuckle escape from the male in front of you.

“some things i like about you that isn’t so bad is your consistency of your fluent sarcasm—and that you look captivating as always.” he teases all while bashfully stuffing his hands in his pockets. you thought that you were hallucinating again because there’s no way in hell that you witnessed his cheeks flutter with crimson in your presence.

“captivating, huh? if you really thought that about me, you would’ve at least tried to call, nicholas.” you argued, with crossed arms under your chest.

“y/n, i—” nicholas was promptly cut off by the sound of another male voice that held much more weight than his own calling your name. nicholas observed as your face shifted from irritated to an expression of dread as you let out a sigh of lament. nicholas could’ve sworn that you were a hell of an actress from how quickly your facial expressions changed again when you turned around to cordially greet the older man that strode in your direction. he saw him on the news, interviews, and press conferences. this man was none other than your father, f/n l/n. the muscles of your shoulders tense under his palm.

“hello, father.” you meekly utter with a nod of your head.

“come now, y/n. it’s time we find our table, your mother is waiting and there’s certainly no time for irrelevant chatter. you’ve had all day to engage in the like.” his baritone voice commanded with a monotonous, cold tone.

“yes, sir.” you complied without another word to nicholas and started to follow after your dad before his voice halted you both.

“uh, mr. l/n, sir. i hope you don’t think me rude. i’m nicholas alexander chavez, my father’s the founder of one of the top law firms in the nation. it’s nice to meet you. i, uh, happen to be a friend of your daughter’s, who i believe would excel as the future of your brand.” nicholas holds out his steady hand for which your father shakes briefly.

“likewise, mr. chavez. i look forward to connecting with you and your family in the near future, but we must get going.” your father politely urges before his grip shifts from your shoulder to your wrist to subtly haul you away from nicholas to the table reserved for your family and the close associates of the business. you sit in between your parents as dinner is about to be served. you dare not to forget the etiquette that’s been installed in you as you focus on engaging in polite, business conversation more than indulging in each course of food. great. now you were flustered, frustrated, humiliated, and hungry. while your mother was droning about the dress you were wearing, your hand reached to sip on the wine that was served. you peered down then up again to see those familiar coffee eyes that’s been haunting your fantasies all week peering back into yours as he simultaneously takes a sip from his own drink at the table adjacent to yours. nicholas was accompanied by what seemed to be his parents and about three siblings. you were still thinking about how he sort of stood up for you in front of your dad. it wasn’t as assertive as when he did it with you, but he could obviously tell that you were uncomfortable in your father’s presence. you found it to be quite noble after you were about to rip into him again.

the emcee’s finger taps the mic thrice before his voice reverberates throughout the room causing everyone to fall silent. he announces the program order that’s listed on the bulletin. fuck, you didn’t even get a glimpse of it. out of the corner of your eye, you see that you’re the very last to present and perform. it was utter bullshit, but it bought you some time to mentally compose yourself—or freak out. the first presenter was the son of a politician and his views on what the environment could look like in thirty years if certain things didn’t change. as he went into his ten-point plan, you gazed over to nicholas who appeared to be interested in what the yuppie had to say. taking this opportunity to ogle him, he was fitted in a two-piece black giorgio armani suit and tie. you’d know that suit from anywhere because you got the same one for your father on his birthday. nicholas looked very handsome and lawyer-ish. you even notice the outline of his jacked build underneath the layers. his chocolate tresses fell naturally upon his head , giving you the urge to know what it feels like when ruffled, pushed back,—or pulled on. your crossed thighs instinctively clenched and you chided yourself for having those thoughts of him again. it doesn’t help that he’s in the same room and sitting a couple feet away.

throughout the next few presentations, your focus is shifting all over the damn place. from the presenter, to nicholas, and to your own mental notes. that pit within your stomach would hurt then dissolve within seconds, it was making you a bit lightheaded and you needed some air. only three more people were presenting before you, so you leaned over to your mother and whispered that you had to be excused to the restroom. she gives you a quick once over to say “hurry up!” and you do so without question. you weren’t really going to the bathroom though, what a lot of people didn’t know was that this venue had a staircase that led to a secluded garden. this was your sacred little spot for the last two galas you’ve attended. fortunately it’s in the same direction of the restrooms, but instead of making a right, you keep journeying all the way down the golden corridors until you see the concrete staircase surrounded by the white marble railing. your hands grasp onto your dress, so you won’t fall as you descend onto each step to find the streaming stone fountain. you let out a breath that you’ve been holding and take your seat on the edge. all of the muscles within your body loosen at the sound of the bubbling waterfall, the sight of the pale moonlit sky, and the sweet scents of the array of flora and fauna fill your senses. your dark, watery eyes peer down at your own weary reflection that was then joined by the concerned reflection of none other than nicholas chavez. you could’ve sworn you were hallucinating again, but once your head turned to debunk your theory, you hastily stood up with a frightened yet angry expression etched on your face. why is he always in every corner of your life? sometimes you wish you’d never cross paths with nicholas chavez, but why were you a bit relieved at his presence?

“nicholas? what the in hell—what are you doing here? did you follow me? i swear to god if you told my father—” you accused, your voice raising a bit before he cut you off by placing one of his hands on your shoulder and a finger against your lip, so that you wouldn’t draw attention.

“shh, shh. when you keep your voice down, i’ll be happy to explain everything, so unless you want someone to find us, you’d do as i say. are we clear, y/n?” he whispered with a hint of urgency, but you could still hear that dominating tone from your last encounter. just like he put you under a spell, you deliberately nodded and he took his finger from your lip along with his hand away from your shoulder. god, how you already missed his touch. there was beat of silence before he softly spoke again,

“i happened to look over to your table to just—see if you were alright after what happened with your old man. i’ve actually looked over there a couple times, but i saw you leave, so i told my dad that i had to use the restroom and that’s when i saw you leave down the hall, down the stairs, and here we are in this garden.” nicholas concluded as his eyes took a brief perusal of the place.

“it looked like you wanted to get away.” he confirmed as you watched him saunter past you to sit beside your empty space on the fountain’s edge. he loosened his tie at the top before leaning over to rest his elbows upon his knees.

“yeah—i did.” you try your best to not let yourself crack under pressure in front of him.

“if you’re comfortable enough, would you want to sit, so you could talk it out?” his questioned with such a soft, coaxing voice. it was like you were under a spell again and his sincere, tawny gaze didn’t pull away as he watched you slowly roam towards the edge and sit in your previous position beside him. no one else besides valerie had really given you the chance to speak out about the true feelings you’ve been bottling up and so you did. nicholas attentively listened as you spoke about how frightened you were of failing the empire that your family worked so hard for. you were grateful for all the luxuries provided, but it was the pressure to be this perfect daughter that was getting to your head, you felt like you were going crazy.

“i’m not even sure that i’m cut out to be the next ceo, nicholas. let alone do this goddamn presentation because everyone is expecting me to royally fuck up. i—huh?” your word vomit ceased when a pillow soft handkerchief touched your skin. with a light hand, nicholas gingerly dabbed away the tears that fell on your face. you sniffled and whispered a soft praise of gratitude for the gesture. nicholas plants the cloth within your hands before concealing them with his own.

“hey, look at me.”

you did as you were told, it was now your turn to do the listening.

“remember what i said to your father earlier? that wasn’t just to ease the tension. i meant what i said about you back there.”

you just sat there stunned as you stared at the man before you while your brain registered his statement. the skin of your cheeks heated when you see that reassuring simper on his face.

“so now you know that it’s not everyone who’s expecting you to fail. you’ve been raised in this life, so who the hell can tell you that weren’t cut out for this? they’re only putting pressure on something they know will come out with greatness and greatness is in your blood, so fuck ‘em!” he exclaims, a beaming smile grows on his face when you erupted in giggles.

“it’s good to hear you laugh.” nicholas stated, he peers at you with sincerity and his hand lightly brushed a piece of your hair from your face.

“did i say that you looked beautiful tonight?” he teased with that smug face.

“hey! don’t try to get fresh, chavez.” you playfully retort, thanking him anyway before your chuckles fill the air again. the wings of your heart rapidly flutter, but they’re instantly clipped during mid-flight. it made you feel so damn guilty that nicholas took time away from his family, hell from networking to go and find you moping in a garden. you had to let him know this one thing before you two depart from each other,

“nicholas, i apologize.” you confessed. your eyes were still damp as they locked with his baffled, furrowed face.

“i’m not following, y/n. what are you apologizing for?”

“i’m sorry for being such a horrible person towards you. nicholas, all you’ve ever done is be a gentleman to me. hell, you even tried to make me seem like i’m worth a damn to my father…” you trail off, to look up into the sky not letting a single teardrop fall again. you were sure that the handkerchief you received was pure egyptian cotton and you didn’t want to ruin it any further.

“heh…and all i did was give you shit about not calling me. it’s so petty.” you dryly scoff at yourself and shake your head.

right, it stung him a bit in the gut once you’ve mentioned it. he was going to make sure tonight that you got an honest explanation on why that didn’t occur,

“y/n, the reason i—”

you interrupted him by standing up hastily. you realized that so much time had passed and that it was getting close to announce your presentation. fuck! you wanted to hear what nicholas had to say.

“nicholas! i gotta go. my presentation will start soon.”

“shit! right. i’ll let you go in first and i’ll come in a little bit afterwards.” he affirmed and stood up after you.

before you take a another step up the staircase, you look down at the ivory cloth in your hand. fortunately, you brought your gucci black clutch outside with you. you reach a gloved hand inside to retrieve your trusty, green fountain pen. nicholas stood there confused as to why you hadn’t made haste towards the venue. you were quickly writing something on the cloth. once you’ve stamped it with the red marked kiss of your lipstick, you scurried to him and placed the folded handkerchief within his palms.

“you’re gonna need this more than i do, you big softie. thank you for everything.” you utter one last time before you quickly venture up the stairs with a new air of confidence for when you give your all during your presentation. you were going to show those motherfucking critics what you and your family were capable of. all thanks to the thought of him.

nicholas’ gaze lingered on your figure as you disappeared up the stairs and into the hallway. as he waited to appropriately arrive back to the gala, he peered down at the folded cloth. his fingers gingerly unravel it to reveal the graceful and precise calligraphy of your phone number. his heart raced within his chest when he caught a glimpse of your lovely stamp. his thumb glided along the ruby mark of a truce where your lips touched. oh, if he could feel your lips on his just this once, but he knew that with you, this thing between you had to simmer or you’d both would horribly burn. anywho, the first step was to definitely call you afterwards to give his congratulations, an explanation, and possibly more, whenever you’re ready.

[yutaan]

An ink/color commissions of Siktar, the Big Bad in the client's ongoing DnD campaign! This is him back when he was a regular grandmaster of a monk order plotting a regular old regicide, before A Bunch Of Backstory Stuff then went down. I have another drawing of him that I'll post in a little while. ^_^

[houseofheroesau]

This is an older ink drawing I did for Time that I felt was cool to post 😃

My old camera isn't high quality, so please forgive me 😭

There's a bunch of references amongst the regular patterns so have fun recognizing them!

[sean-gaffney]

What's Left of the Looney Tunes?

So you’re a Looney Tunes fan, and you’re waiting with baited breath (Greetings, Bait!) for the cartoon list for the next Collector’s Choice Blu-Ray.  And as you wait to see if they add that 1953 Friz Freleng or 1958 Robert McKimson cartoon, you must be thinking:  Surely they’ve released every single cartoon at SOME point since the 1980s, right?  Well, except for the really racist ones.  Right?

Nah.  There’s 129 Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies that have never been officially released, restored or unrestored, on home video at all.  And, to be honest, most of them are unlikely to be on the Collector’s Choice sets.  Let’s take a look at the last bastions against having all 1000 LT/MM cartoons available.

Bosko.  Now, there are a few Bosko cartoons available.  There’s 38 Bosko cartoons from 1930-1933, not counting the weird ones like the Talk-ink Kid pilot or whatever Bosko and Honey was.  Of those, 11 have been released officially.  This leaves 27 in limbo.  This is a shame, there are some really good Bosko cartoons.

Buddy.  Even worse, to be honest.  23 Buddy cartoons were made, 5 have had some official release.  That leaves 18.  Now, there’s a reason for that.  They’re awful.  (Also, two of those 18, Buddy of the Apes and Buddy in Africa, also fall under one of the later categories we’ll get to.)

Seven B&W Merrie Melodies.  Two of these, Hittin’ the Trail for Hallelujah Land and Goin’ to Heaven on a Mule, are basically banned for content.  Those Were Wonderful Days, Why Do I Dream Those Dreams, The Girl at the Ironing Board, The Miller’s Daughter, and Rhythm in the Bow, are simply not available, possibly as they’re dull.  However, they have been restored.  (As has HtTfHL.)

Seven B&W Looney Tunes.  Mostly the same as above.  The Daffy Duckaroo and Tokio Jokio are banned for content, though we may see Duckaroo someday (Native American caricatures have traditionally been less banned than Black and Asian caricatures).  Saps in Chaps also has some Native American gags, I think.  As for The Fire Alarm, Joe Glow the Firefly, Gopher Goofy and Nutty News, they’ve been restored but never released.

The rest of the “Censored 11”, of which Hittin’ the Trail for Hallelujah Land was the first.  As most cartoon fans know, this is not a catch all of all racist WB cartoons, it’s just the ones that were owned by Associated Artists productions.  So yeah, Sunday Go to Meetin’ Time, Clean Pastures, Uncle Tom’s Bungalow, Jungle Jitters, The Isle of Pingo Pongo, All This and Rabbit Stew (a Bugs Bunny cartoon), Coal Black and de Sebben Dwarfs, Tin Pan Alley Cats, Angel Puss and Goldilocks and the Jivin’ Bears.  They’ve all been restored.

The dog cartoons.  There are a bunch of one-shots that have no regular characters but all involve dogs, and (likely as they don’t have a “star” and aren’t really great) they’ve never come out.  Pappy’s Puppy, Mixed Master, A Waggily Tale, Dog Tales.  All but Pappy’s Puppy are restored.

Miscellaneous “banned for content” cartoons.  Which is Witch (a Bugs Bunny cartoon), Tom Tom Tomcat (a Tweety and Sylvester cartoon), and two REALLY late cartoons, Hocus Pocus Pow Wow and Injun Trouble.  None of these have been restored.

Random missing 50s stuff.  A Bone for a Bone (Goofy Gophers), Sock a Doodle Doo (Foghorn Leghorn), Easy Peckin’s, Quack Shot (Daffy Duck and Elmer Fudd), Trick or Tweet (Tweety).

60s stuff that’s still actually Warner Brothers.  There’s about 10 or 12 early 60s cartoons that just aren’t very good, and that’s why they’re not out.  They’ve all been restored except Unnatural History and What’s My Lion, which are two of the worst LT/MM shorts that ever came out – not for content, they’re simply pathetically unfunny.

All the post-64 stuff.  There’s a pile, I won’t break them down one by one.  Mostly Daffy/Speedy cartoons, the nadir of both characters.  A few of the Roadrunner cartoons that weren’t stuffed onto that one DVD a while back.  They’re here as no one wants to watch them.

The post-67 stuff, aka the nightmare years.  Cool Cat, Merlin the Magic Mouse, Bunny and Claude… those.  (Though actually, both Bunny and Claude shorts HAVE been released.)  They’re here for the same reason – unpopularity.

Note this doesn’t even get into the cartoons which were fine to release in the 1980s on VHS but *aren’t* fine to release now (all the Merrie Melodies that weren’t banned but have racial stereotypes, such as the Inki cartoons, a huge number of cowboy and Indian cartoons, and Bugs Bunny’s unfortunate wartime cartoon).  Or all the stuff that’s restored and out on Max, but has never hit a DVD or Blu-Ray (half of the 30s Merrie Melodies).  Or the stuff that’s unrestored, not on Max and has never hit a DVD or Blu-Ray (the other half of the 1930s Merrie Melodies).  Or Holiday for Drumsticks, what’s up with that?

In any case, when they announce the cartoons for the 4th set in a week or so, you can look at this list and see if it has any of those.

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

Pinned FAQ

How do I request a card?

You can request up to 3 cards for free during openaskbox events! During those, the /ask inbox opens up for a few hours, during which I try to write as many as I can live on twitch and post them on tumblr.

After the event is over and I close that inbox, there are still a BUNCH of leftover requests. This is how I fill the daily content queue, I use those up til it's empty again and then run another openaskbox.

On Sundays at 3pm EST I write all 28 cards due to go up for the week from that pool of leftover asks live on twitch and then queue them to go up after stream

What if I don't wanna wait?

If you'd like to throw a bit of cash around instead of waiting, you can buy via the etsy listing or you can tune in to those^ Saturday livestreams, there's a variety of ways to donate to get cards written for you on the spot

How do I buy the card I've requested?

The etsy listing is available here! Please remember to include in the notes of the purchase which card(s) you want to buy. If you'd like me to bundle together all the cards you've requested over a period of a few years, dm me here on the blog and I can quote you on a cheaper bundle price

Why did you answer all those asks, it messed up my dash?

Sorry about that! So to keep all of that ^ organized, at the end of the month, I answer about 112-140 leftover asks in order to record them to a proper "to-write document"

It helps me keep organized, it allows me to easily search for spelling issues, and it gets a few eyeballs on the request in case someone tries to slip an obscure slur into their request that I'm not cool with writing (it has happened)

Lots of the regulars are used to this dash nonsense, but there are folks who want to avoid it entirely. If you're on mobile I'd just recommend unfollowing for a while, but if you're on desktop, you can blacklist the tag "added to notepad" and go to xkit to tick the "fully hide blocked tags" option so it clears up your dash

Wait I thought requests were closed, why can I still send things?

That's because requests use /ask, but /submit is always open because it's for YOUR calligraphy, pet photos, fanart of man... etc. Requests are NOT open when it's not openaskbox day but feel free to send me cool shit YOU made anytime

Wait you have a twitch, do you do anything other than calligraphy?

I try! my schedule at work (restaurant) varies week to week so I try my best to stream whenever I've got free time to, nothing's really planned out though

What are your regular writing tools and paper?

I mainly just use speedball nibs, specifically the c-series (c-0 through c-4) because they're angled flat nibs that let me do most blackletter hands I write. I have a supply of leonardt thin tips for detailing and illustrating

As for paper, the cards you see on the daily are on plain index cue cards I buy from staples. When commissioned/doing larger pieces, I work with a variety of paper, including a 32 lb xerox paper that has juuuust a perfect amount of lamination that avoids ink feathering, black paper that I bought a hundred sheets of in 2019 and I no longer remember the label, and a BOATLOAD of southworth's ivory parchment paper at both 32 and 64 lb weights.

[oneforthemunny]

the modern!eddie blurb. contains: drug use, language, mature themes, 18+

eddie sat on the leather couch of steve harrington's mcmansion, bass booming from the bluetooth speakers, blunt hanging loosely out of his mouth. his eyes were half lidded, drooping with every inhale of the weed, inked fingers wrapping around the rolled blunt, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke in front of him.

eddie had been selling in hawkins since he was fifteen. since rick approached him in the park, and offered to help him make some money of his own, selling to some high school kids. he'd get in a lot less trouble if he got caught than rick, plus with the cut he was getting he couldn't turn it down. plus, it was easy. eddie would post a snapchat, a bag of weed and some rolled joints, and his phone would blow up, everyone begging to buy some from him. he'd always charge the rich assholes, like jason carver, more and they were too stupid to know they were being ripped off. most high schoolers were, honestly. he used to overcharge steve too until they became friends, then he sold it to him at regular price, telling him he gave him a 'discount' and steve thought he was the greatest.

eddie had stuck around high school, purposely flunking twice his senior year to keep up his clientele. eddie genuinely believed dab pens were the greatest invention on earth since pornhub. he sold carts left and right, all over hawkins and beyond, making enough money to set him up and keep him rolling steady. once rick started dealing in with some heavier shit, eddie's bank account just kept climbing, venmo balance always full.

that's why he was here tonight. surrounded by a bunch of his 'friends' and people he didn't know or care about. they wanted drugs, and that he had. weed, molly, oxy, adderall- whatever, he had it.

he felt the couch move, a figure moving out of the corner of his eye. he turned his head slowly, exhaling his blunt, eyes trained in a daze on her. he didn't know her, had never seen her before- which was weird for hawkins. she was pouting, nose scrunched in displeasure, furiously typing on her phone, acrylics clacking against the dim screen.

"hey," eddie called. she ignored him. he groaned slowly, scooting down the couch, towards the opposite end where she sat. "hey." he repeated.

"what?" she snapped, eyes narrowed and furious with irritation.

eddie grinned, lazy. "what's the matter, huh?" he asked, throwing his hands out. "you look upset. are you upset?"

she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "do I know you?"

eddie let his eyes roll over her frame, slowly, taking in her features. her little black dress that rode up her thighs. he shook his head, curls bouncing. "nah, I don't think so. do I know you?"

she snarled, looking back down at her phone. eddie smirked. she was mean. god, he loved it. "you're not from here, are you?" he asked.

"obviously not." she huffed, not looking up from her phone.

"where you from?" eddie asked, inhaling his blunt slowly. he offered it to her.

she blinked up at him, unimpressed. "not from here." she scoffed, looking around.

eddie grinned. "yeah, I can tell." he muttered slowly. "you don't look like you're from here." she ignored him. "but you look familiar. like I've seen you before."

she rolled her eyes. "look, I'm just trying to find my friend, alright?" she huffed, looking around. "she's giving me a ride home."

"who's your friend?" eddie asked, inching closer and closer.

she eyed him carefully. "shina." she snapped.

eddie grinned. "I know shina." he smirked. "I know shina real well. went to high school with her."

"yeah, so did everyone else here apparently." she scoffed. "god, is this all you guys do? just hang out with the same people all the time?"

eddie shook his head slowly. "nah. not always. I'm hanging out with you tonight. you're new."

her lips twitched, pressing them together in a tight line. "we are not hanging out."

eddie held his hands out. "I think we are." he grinned.

she snuffed, turning away with a little huff but she didn't get up, din't walk away. eddie grinned, he knew he had a chance. chad walked up before he could continue, wad of bills extended towards him, begging for a cart.

"this is a good strand?" chad asked, slurring slightly.

eddie nodded slow. cool. "yeah. fresh one. new from out in oregon. gotta lot of good feedback. shit's strong tho. cost a little extra tho."

chad shook his head, fisting out more bills. "that's fine. I-I just need something. thanks." he grabbed the pin, hurrying away as eddie pocketed the bills, sliding them in easily into his pocket.

he could feel her eyes on him, trying not to make it obvious that she was watching him. he turned back to her, small grin on his face. she looked over at him, meeting his eyes for the first time of the night. "so you're the drug dealer around here, huh?"

eddie shrugged. "gotta make a livin' somehow baby. only fans wasn't cutting it, had to go to this."

she snorted, a small smile pulling on the edge of her lips. "I'd say so." she bit, but her eyes trailed down his physique, grazing a bit longer than she should.

eddie bit back a smirk, arms spreading on the back of the couch, hand near her shoulder. "so what do you do, huh?" he asked sweetly. "what brings you here?"

she rolled her eyes heavy, grunting. "I work at the mac store in starcourt." she grumbled.

eddie's brows lifted slowly. "the makeup store?" he asked. she nodded. "that's cool. went in there once to get eyeliner."

she lifted a brow, curious and eddie felt himself blush. "I-I mean not that I wear makeup all the time, obviously." her brow lifted even further, accusation. eddie grimaced, straightening his posture. "wait, not that there's anything wrong with guys that do. I- fuck, I'm in a bad and I needed it for my band."

"a band, huh?" she asked, tongue rolling on the inside of her cheek. "eyeliner wearing drug dealer in a... my chemical romance cover band?"

eddie laughed loudly, head tipping back onto the couch. he could see her grin through his lidded eyes, trying to bite back her own smile to keep up her tough, mean appearance.

"shit, that's funny. you're funny." eddie pointed at her playfully with a lopsided smile. "nah, it's called corroded coffin. we play like every once in a while for shits and gigs, honestly. nothing serious just for fun, but... we are on soundcloud so." he shrugged playfully.

she sputtered out a laugh, mean girlish and nasally. he'd gladly be the butt of the joke if it meant she'd stay talking to him. that's why he loved the mean girls, because once you got them laughing they were always so sweet.

"oh god, not soundcloud." she cringed.

eddie smirked, tongue rolling in his mouth. "so, you're a makeup person?" he asked, she nodded. "I can tell. your face looks real pretty." he bit back a smile when she blushed, pretending to look at someone behind her to hide it. "your eyeliner looks a hell of a lot better than mine. I watched a million fucking videos on youtube, and I don't know how they do it. I always stab myself in the eye or my eyes water the whole time after." he was talking exaggeratedly, bubbly and funny in a way that had her smiling, reluctant and a little guarded but genuine.

she was relaxing a little more, moving closer so he could hear her better. "you gotta pinch your nose and sniff." she said simply, tilting her head to the side. "stops the eyes from running."

eddie's brows furrowed, plugging his nose with his fingers. "like this?" he asked, voice nasally and a little high pitched from pinching his airway shut.

she laughed, shaking her head. eddie grinned, dropping his hand. "no, dumbass, you have to... here," she took her manicured nails, reaching over and pinching the bridge of his nose, right on the bone, she squeezed lightly as eddie didn't take his eyes off her, trained on her concentrated gaze. "then you sniff." she said, applying a little bit of pressure.

eddie sniffed hard, making her laugh. "wow, you really are a pro." he grinned. his face was close to her, her full lips nearly touching his.

she shrugged, eyes darting from his lips back to his eyes. "I guess."

eddie could feel his phone buzzing in his pocket, knowing it was probably max asking him where he was- she probably sold out of her supply already-but he ignored it. "you want me to give you a ride home?" eddie suggested.

she scoffed, pulling back. "no thanks. I'll uber."

eddie laughed loudly. "jesus, you really aren't from here are you?" she furrowed her brows. "baby, there is one uber driver in this whole fucking place and he," eddie pointed a long, tattooed finger towards the man, propped against steve's wall, struggling to stand while his friends filmed him. "is right there."

she pouted, hesitating for a moment. eddie stood. "c'mon, I'll give you a ride. pretty sure shina left an hour ago anyways."

she looked at him carefully. "you don't need to stay here? do more business?"

eddie shook his head. "they can come to me if they need it that bad, but I'm straight for the night." he stood slowly, reaching out his hand to her.

she looked at it, unmoving. "I don't even know your name."

eddie grinned. "I'm eddie. what's your name, angel?" her movements stuttered for a moment before she reluctantly told him. "pleasure to meet you. now, you gonna let me give you a ride home?"

she narrowed her eyes at him, glaring before reluctantly taking his hand. "I have my location on, just so you know." she snarled. eddie laughed, leading her through the crowds. "and I'm texting my group chat right now. if I go missing, I'll make sure they go on all the true crime podcasts and make the world hate you."

eddie laughed. "alright. fair enough. you want me to text shina for you? would that make yo feel better?"

her eyes squinted, lips rolling slightly. "maybe." she admitted.

eddie grinned, pulling her out towards his mustang, all black down to the rims and seats. he'd given the van for max when she started working with him, he knew she'd earn herself up to a spot like he did, the way she was raking in cash right now, he was sure she'd pass him.

eddie opened her door, watching her slowly climb in. his phone plugged into the aux, ozzy osbourne's war pigs screaming through the speaker. she lifted a brow again. "wow, I'm shocked."

eddie mimicked her reaction. "yeah? what'd you think I'd listen to?"

she scoffed. "I thought you'd play drake for sure." her eyes rolled over his frame again, legs pressing together at his arm, inked up and flexing against the wheel. "you give kanye vibes honestly."

eddie winced exaggeratedly. "ouch. that's a low blow, baby." he grumbled. she grinned wide. she liked that response. "is it at least old kanye?"

she grinned. "sure."

"graduation?" eddie asked hopefully.

she snorted. "you wish. 808, maybe, that's being generous."

he smirked, looking over at her. she looked back at him, her eyes were softer now, sweeter. they were pretty, lashes framing them through heavy eyeliner. "am I taking a left or a right?" eddie asked at the stop sign.

she shook her head slightly, blinking a few time before turning forward. "right." she pointed.

eddie turned the wheel slow, engine purring when he pulled out. she pursed her lips, studying him for a moment. "you do this a lot, huh?" she asked. he looked at her. "you usually pick up girls at parties, or are you more of a tinder guy?"

eddie barked out a laugh. "baby, I'm only a tinder to sell molly to the sorority chicks before formal and spring break." he purred easily. his eyes met hers, she wasn't convinced. "seriously. I-I don't do this, really."

she hummed, unconvinced. eddie shrugged. "I don't. I don't even let anyone in my car." his eyes cut to hers. "you should consider yourself lucky."

she nodded slowly, contemplating. "I ask shina, is she gonna tell me the same thing?" she challenged.

eddie snorted. "ask your whole little group chat, they'll tell you the same thing." he said.

she scoffed. "what's that?"

"that they buy weed from me. I'm nice, not scary or creepy. I'm sure you'll ask them if I fuck around or if I've ever hit on them, and they'll say no. you'll ask if I have a girlfriend or some other girl, and they'll say no. you'll try to stalk me on instagram or get one of them to send you my shit, because I'm private, and then you'll still be unconvinced." eddie rambled, head rolling to look over at her. "left or right?"

"right." she said, tone back with an edge. he could see her blush in the dim street lights, even through the tinted windows. "so you are a psycho killer then?" she asked, but her tone was playful, teasing. eddie looked at her curiously. "private accounts? what kind of psycho is private on insta?"

"the kind of psycho who doesn't want people in his shit." eddie grinned.

she smirked back. "so if I requested to follow you, would you accept my request?"

eddie snorted. "how do I know you're not the psycho?" he teased.

"because my insta isn't private." she laughed.

eddie smiled. "yeah, I'd let you follow me." he nodded, hands gripping the wheel tight, he felt his heart race. "I'd even follow you back."

"how sweet." she cooed playfully, pointing towards her apartments.

eddie pulled into the spot in front of the building, putting the car in park. she hesitated for a moment, looking down at her hands. she didn't want to leave, he could tell. it made his heart leap a little, he didn't want her to leave either.

"thanks for taking me." she said, eyes meeting his with a softness he was surprised to see. "thanks for not killing me too."

eddie grinned. "you're welcome." he tilted his head to the side. "you need a cart, a blunt, anything before you go? last chance before me and my goodies are gone for the night."

she smiled. "would you roll it for me if I got a blunt?"

eddie swallowed hard. her voice changed into something sweet, intoxicating. her eyes rounded, batting when they met his. he was sure she was trying to get something for free, that's what the rational side of him screamed, but his heart was hammering.

"I'll roll it for ya, yeah." eddie nodded.

she giggled, looking up at the apartments. "you wanna come up with me? we can share it if you want." she offered. eddie froze. "if you don't have other girls or drug lord things to get to, I just..." she sighed heavily. "I like talking to you. you're like the first guy I've met here who isn't a total gross loser fuckboy." she snarled her nose.

eddie smirked. "that's high praise coming from you." she giggled again, and eddie's stomach turned. "I like talkin' to you too." he admitted, head tilting to the side sweetly. he could see her blush.

eddie pushed out of the car, quicker and more eager than he meant to, waiting for her to get out before he locked the door, following her up the creaking wooden steps.

they sat on her couch that night, he rolled the blunt and she opened the windows, passing it back and forth slowly, exchanging little stories and details about each other between them. she put on rick and morty, and eddie was sure she was his soul mate.

when he kissed her that night, slow and sweet on her couch, the glow of the sunrise peeking in through her shades, he was sure she was his soul mate. his twin flame or whatever weird shit machine gun kelly said; he kinda got it now. she fucked him nice and slow, riding him on her couch before she brought him to her room, letting him sleep there for the night, their shared blunt dwindling down in the living room, her back on his chest in her small bed.

[ink-sans-club]

I don't know if this has been discussed before here, but something I see people forget is that Ink is a worshiper of ALL arts, be it music, dance, writing, etc. But I always see the fandom focusing much more on him drawing than him with other arts. It would be cool to see how Ink would react to so many different cultural arts!

yes. YES. YES! YOU REMEMBER! A lot of people typically associate Ink with drawing, painting, or writing. At least that's what I've seen.

I personally think he would really like dancing. He would either be one of the most beautiful and flowy people on his feet, or he would stumble and trip a lot. They would still love it though.

He loves music (doesn't he play the flute?) and would love to dance to the music.

They probably read all of the fanfiction that the Undertale Creative Community makes, along with a whole bunch of regular books.

He would most likely love Michael's / Hobby Lobby / craft stores. I could see him excited to go to a craft store.

[lale-txt]

𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀 (𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫) ❦ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟏: 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤

♫ Soap&Skin - Safe With Me

No love can be safe with me No love can be safe with me No love can be safe with me No love can be safe with me

✰ 𝐜𝐰: slightly suggestive themes in both SMAU & written portions

⭅ back to m.list

He kissed you once.

You’re sure he remembers it. You wish he wouldn’t.

Sometimes, when Akaashi is deeply focused on capturing every shape of you in coal and ink, he’d get this expression that makes you want to cry; a deep loneliness that’s hidden so deep down you’d scrape your fingertips trying to dig it up. It’s too familiar, like looking down the bottomless pond of his soul, dead water luring you in. 

Sitting model for a bunch of spoiled rich art students has been by far the easiest job you ever had. You didn’t mind getting undressed for them; a body is just that–a body, a temporary home for your soul, a shield you carry with grace and the air of a silent threat. A few hours, three times a week, getting on the pedestal in the classroom like a fallen goddess climbing up the stairs to Mount Olympus to claim her rightful throne. Sitting, standing, lying down, it’s you who dictates how you want to be perceived that day, how you’ll allow them to lay their eyes on you, like an offering. They’re not chipping away from you, some of them don’t even see you. 

But Akaashi does. 

Love drunk. Longing. Lonely. 

At times he feels like a cat, pawing at the window of your soul, begging to be let in. He doesn’t know what he’s asking for. Every now and then you think about letting him catch a glimpse, just enough to scare him away, so he’d stop looking at you with those sad eyes of his. To prove him that you’re nothing like the version of yourself that he sculpted in his mind. 

You’re not sure why you keep agreeing when he asks you to sit for him in the evening hours. It’s for the money, you tell yourself. Everyone who goes to this university must be well off, so you don’t feel too bad taking whatever absurd sum they’re offering to you to pose for a few more hours after regular classes. 

It’s always the same, like a dance you memorize each and every step to. You know your way around this campus, having been here countless times and at different departments, but even after three years Akaashi would wait for you by the huge iron gate, leaning against the red brick wall and mindlessly fidgeting with his fingers, almost as if they’re itching to create something to calm his nervous system. He’s there, no matter the season or weather. It’s a ten minute walk from the gate to the east wing where his private atelier is at, and every time he already has a lighter in the pocket of shirt and a perfectly rolled cigarette behind his ear prepared for you. Sometimes, when you lean in to light it, his hands would tremble slightly when he cups the small flame to shield it from the wind for you.

Most of the time you do the talking–about new releases you got at the record store, any upcoming live shows you managed to get a guest list entry for, or whatever movie you watched the other day. Akaashi listens intently, his eyes always pinned on the path in front of you, only occasionally stealing a side glance at you, almost as if he’s saving those up for when the door of his atelier closes behind you two. 

You still remember what his lips tasted like. A sweet oblivion, paired with the gentle caress of his palms against your face, so soft it made you want to cry more than you already did that night. Like a forbidden fruit offered to you on a silver platter. 

The east wing of the uni building feels pretty abandoned and eerie quiet at times. You learned that all students were granted their own ateliers and the sculpting department had the bad luck of being assigned to what they call the catacombs, even though the rooms were on the second floor and not below surface. It’s probably thanks to the ancient hallways with the dark bricks and broken stained glass windows–once magnificent, today barely a shadow of what they once were. No matter the season, it was always cold here, too.

Akaashi’s atelier is a stark contrast to this. The high ceilings are plastered with sketches and notes, some polaroids of his friends, too. Blocks of clay and marble are scattered across the floor, some wooden blocks too, as if he needed every single material of the world to convey the story he wants to tell with his art. There’s an omamori from when they all visited the shrine for New Year’s together next to some dried flowers that you recognize from one of Yukie’s projects a few semesters ago. A dozen blankets are draped over the chaise lounge by the big window, the one where you usually take your position. In one corner stands a decorative paper screen that he put up for you to get changed behind, as if he didn’t spend hours studying every dip and curve of your body once you step out from behind it.

It feels homey and cozy. You hate to admit that.

Sometimes you’d stay here till past midnight. Akaashi lets you play your music over the small portable speaker while his pen scratches over the paper, his eyes darting back and forth between the sketchbook in his lap and your bare figure standing still for him. He never touches you when he asks you to shift your pose, his slender hands only ghosting over your skin, like a puppeteer pulling your strings. It feels almost reverent. He also never comments on the blemishes of your skin, the love bites and scratches and hickeys, but you can tell that he notices them, his eyes darkening for a split second before he’s back to his usual, calm composure.

At times you’d study his hands–his flawless, tender hands which look as if they never had to do dirty work even once–and you wonder how they’d feel wrapped around your throat, a quiet “Please” on the tip of your tongue.

“Have you thought about the theme of your final assignment yet?”, you ask, a cigarette dangling from your lips as you smoke by the open window. The blanket draped around your shoulders is warm and heavy, the material feels expensive. The ornamental carpet you’re standing on is one Akaashi got for you when he noticed how you shivered and shifted from one foot to the other during your cigarette breaks. You blow out a mouthful of smoke towards the night sky and look over to him. For someone as put together as him, with his dark green linen pants and the black button up shirt, his hair was always a bit unkempt, barely contained by his glasses pushed up into it. 

“Phantom pain.”

His voice is quiet, almost not audible, but his gaze feels like it could spark a thousand small fires inside of you if you let him.

He kissed you once. 

Your heart still aches from it. 

•┈••✦ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬

Problem Child Records has an attached rehearsal room which local bands can use for free (or in exchange for tickets to their upcoming shows)

the sofa in there has seen to many things (Issei and y/n are the biggest culprits)

Kunimi already has some practice in taking y/n's makeup off, she lets him do it whenever he sleeps over at the Ukai-Takeda househould and they do sheet masks together afterwards

Ukai & Takeda are high school volleyball coaches in this universe too and whenever they're off for training camps or tournaments, the remaining four are in charge of the store (usually Kiyoko is handling things best)

Akaashi doesn't smoke but he knows how to roll a mean cigarette (Kuroo taught him)

we bless Yukie for her service (putting pretty men in lingerie)

i haven't decided who the Semi's drummer in question is yet and i'm taking suggestions in the comments

•┈••✦ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

@wyrcan @spacekedi @kentocalls @hhoneyhan @walllflowerrrsss

@rory-cakes @jaynawayna @zq13

taglist open! dm/ask/comment to be added (or removed, no hard feelings ♡)! minors DNI!

[darkfairiefey]

MK Halloween Smut x AFAB!Reader

Witch!Jade x Reader

pairing: jade x afab!reader

content warning: gore, nsfw, love potion

You were lost. More than just lost, you felt like you had nowhere to go. The dark grass green fields and tall trees of the woods make it hard to see through the path in the nighttime, and it has been hours since you first entered the woods and stepped out of the comforts of home to investigate the silhouette of what seemed to be someone riding on a broom in the sky. Now the same figure was nowhere to be seen, and you have been searching for the same shadow for hours at a time. Feeling lost like this has never felt so mysterious until now, but you weren’t alone for long. Soon enough, you find what appears to be a set of stairs underneath the ground, a place where no normal set of stairs would be, especially not in the middle of the woods. Feeling intrigued by such a mysterious set of stairs, you decide to investigate the underground path awaiting you. Minutes of walking down the underground stairs later, you find a strange-looking lair filled with shelves and a big cauldron filled with many different kinds of fluids. Along the many oddities in the lair included an attractive-looking woman with dark skin and black, braided hair. She was wearing a tall, ragged wizard hat, and in her hands, she was holding a comically large spoon, the perfect size for a witch’s cauldron. You can’t help but stare in awe at such a magical sight. She notices you walking down the stairs to the lair, and she is quite surprised, as she hasn’t had any guests come over to her witch’s lair in a long time. She introduces herself as Jade, the head of the witch’s council. You take a look closer into the huge cauldron in front of you. Inside the cauldron were the cut flesh of snakes, spiders, eyeballs, and even fingers. You can’t help but wonder what exactly Jade is cooking inside that cauldron. You reach into the cauldron, but she pulls you back, not wanting the recipe to be messed up. Patience is the key to a successful dish, she philosophized, continuing to slowly stir the cauldron. 

A few minutes later, she finishes stirring the cauldron, and the gross stuff from inside the cauldron has been fully dissolved. She takes a flask from the shelves as well as a regular-sized spoon and uses the spoon to dip the cauldron’s fluid into the flask in her other hand. When the flask has filled to the top, she closes the flask using a wooden lid. She then writes down the name and details of the flask in ink and places the flask onto the shelf with all the other flasks. Many of the strange flasks included “Regeneration”, “Night Vision, “Strength”, and the oddest one of the bunch, “Love Nectar”. Jade notices you checking out the “Potions” section on the shelves and offers you a sip of her love potion, now that you’ve both gotten to know each other well enough. You weren’t alone in this new experience, fortunately, as she offered to take a sip of the potion as well. You slowly and nervously poured the potion down your throat, nervous and curious about the effects of the potion. You felt fine for the first few minutes, most likely because the taste was amounting to warm milk. But after a few more minutes passed, you started to feel... weird. Your mind felt hazy in mushy feelings and couldn’t think straight without your heart melting in your chest when you made eye contact with her. Jade was also feeling the effects of the potion, but not as much as you were, as she was already used to drinking potions in her own lair. You couldn’t help it. The longer you sat down and stared at her, the more you could feel the wetness between your legs. She then offered you to sit on her face as relief, and you could not help but accept such an offer...

Jade had laid down on her back as you slowly sat down on her head. The wetness of your pussy drips onto her face as she slowly lowers your legs over to her mouth. You were nervous, but she didn’t mind that much. Once you have properly sat down on top of her, she takes her wet tongue out and starts to insert it into the wetness of your hole, licking profusely like a cat drinking from a bowl. You can’t help but whine at the sensation as her tongue slicks back and forth in your dripping wetness. As she is licking your pussy, Jade spanks your ass a few times, leaving a hot, dark mark on your skin. You try not to scream in pleasure as Jade laps deeper into your wet hole using her tongue, making sure every inch of your insides gets touched. You just couldn’t hold in your pleasure any longer, and your moans echo through the lair, and Jade smiled, just for a moment, before getting back to pleasuring the insides of yours. You cum in her face and mouth, and Jade moves off of your wetness to catch her breath, but she isn’t done just yet. She removes her panties and clothing, lies down in front of your naked body, and the both of you began to rub the wetness of each other’s pussies together in a dripping wet scissoring position. You whine at the feeling of her wetness between your own legs, trying to keep up with her pace, but your mind is starting to go blank at the sensation, and you can’t really think without stimulation kicking in. The wet rubbing gets faster, and soon enough, both of you reach orgasm, cum spilling out of your clits and all over the floor. Both of you were tired after the effects of the love potion wore off, and you were just about to walk back home, but Jade insists that you stay here until morning in case you get lost in the darkness. You lie down in her bedroom, all comfy and cozy, as Jade slowly closes the door behind you as you fall asleep…

Vampire!Bi-Han x Reader

pairing: bi-han x afab!reader

content warning: blood, nsfw, yandere themes, blood kink, blood play, monsterfucking

It was a dark and stormy night inside your village, and the night was cold and empty. The comforts of your home were not enough to keep you safe and warm from the loud thunder and freezing cold air from outside. The only thing keeping you cozy was your large cardigan you begged your life that you would keep forever. Feeling lonely late at night was the worst feeling you’ve ever experienced. No one to huddle with for warmth, no one to share your moments of joy with. As you lay in bed trying to get to sleep, you wondered if spending nights alone like this was the norm for such dark and mysterious places like these. As you attempted to close your eyes, however, you suddenly heard a knock on the door. Tired and confused, you slowly got up out of bed and walked right over to open the door, with the sound of knocking getting louder every minute you took to shuffle over to the door. You open it slowly to reveal the presence of a tall, handsome-looking man with jet black hair, done up in a low, messy bun. His skin was paler than the average Earthrealmer, almost as if the cold embrace of death was tugging at his body by strings. He introduces himself as Bi-Han, the current patriarch of the centuries-old Liang family. Unsure with who you were dealing with, you ask for his age. His response equals to a whopping 332. You could not believe it. Hundreds of years old, and somehow centuries of age have not inhibited his good looks. He asks you if he can bring you to his home, and you can’t help but accept the invitation, as you have been waiting for moments like this forever. 

He offers a carriage ride over to his house, with horses carrying the two of you through the streets of the village. A few moments in, he can’t help but feel a little playful, so he takes the time to flirt with your desires by peppering kisses onto your neck and chest, teasing you with his hands, as you tried not to squirm in front of crowds of people. When both of you arrive, Bi-Han takes a hand of yours as you step off the carriage, and that was the moment you realized that his house was a castle instead of just a regular house. It towered over both of you, making you look like an ant in comparison. He opens the front door to the castle, and both step inside as the wind shuts the door behind you. The kisses he peppered on your neck and chest a while ago had quite the effect on you, as you were now feeling wetness between your legs from the desire. You both go upstairs to the highest point of the castle, and you sit down near the window. As you undo your pyjamas in front of him, he slowly walks up to you, licking his lips to reveal pointy fangs, fangs reminiscent of a vampire. This reveal surprises you more than it should, and you think to yourself that maybe inviting him into your heart wasn’t the best idea. You try to pull away, but Bi-Han grabs you by the arm, preventing you from escaping. He asks why you would pull away so easily if the fun hasn’t started yet, so you have no choice but to stay in line with him, as it was your choice to follow him into his clutches in the first place. He arches his back to reveal some huge bat wings that sprout out of his back, dropping his act of normalcy altogether. He looked like he could kill at any moment, but your heart’s desires could not resist such supernatural beauty...

Slowly drawing closer to his semi-naked frame, you placed your hands on his bare chest, feeling a sense of lust and belonging in him. Bi-Han walks behind and sits your nude frame onto his lap. He could feel you panting beneath him as he slowly guided his fingers near your drooling pussy. You whine slightly as he inserts his two fingers into your hole, massaging it slowly and gently. As he is doing so, he unhinges his jaw, biting into your shoulder as he continues to finger you to distract you from the sudden pain in your neck. You squirm in place trying to relieve yourself from the pain but he grabs your hands you attempt to reach over and touch yourself. You can’t really form a sentence without pain or pleasure taking over your senses as he continues to give both to you at the same time. His fingers and sharp nails dig into your waist, leaving both cuts and bruises from the pressure he puts into it. Soon enough, he digs his fingers deeper into your pussy, and moves his fangs up into your neck, silencing you, but just for a moment, as you continue to whine at the sensation. He rubs faster now, playing with your insides as if they were small patches of soft silk. Your pain contrasts to his pleasure, even with your moans for more and your head spinning inside your brain as he continues to play with your wetness. 

Although Bi-Han slowly slides his fingers out of your clit, that doesn’t mean he’s finished with you. He grabs both your legs and raise them way above your head into a full nelson. He slides his cock right into your ass, continuing to bite into your neck as he wraps his arms over your legs and grabbed your head using his hands to keep you place as squirmed in pleasure. He coos at your efforts to escape from his clutches as he roughly fucks into you through your hole, straining you of your flexibility and strength to resist him. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t move, all you could do is moan loudly and writhe from the pain of the feelings of his fangs inside your flesh. His fangs have been in your long enough for consciousness to start slipping away from your body, and you attempt to tap onto his arm to get him to slow down, but he can’t hear you the sound of him sapping blood from your body through your neck. Your eyes roll to the back of your head in both an orgasm and slip from consciousness to unconsciousness. He cums inside of you after seeing your orgasmic face, and slowly lowers your legs down once he notices your slip of consciousness. He slowly slides his cock out of your anus, and you almost hit the floor with how exhausted you are after he removes his fangs from your neck. He grabs you just in time for him to hold your unconscious body with only one arm. Bi-Han’s wings start to flap as he and your body ascend of the ground and into the windy night skies above. As you both fly high into the sky, Bi-Han dives in for one last bite…

Werewolf!Tomas x Reader

pairing: tomas vrbada x short!afab!reader

content warning: blood, gore, body horror, nsfw, monsterfucking, size difference, breeding kink

The full moon was out tonight gleaming brightly in your eyes as you lay so silently and peacefully in bed, as it illuminated your body frame perfectly in the darkness of the night. Despite the peaceful look in your eyes, you still couldn’t sleep. Need was filling your senses, although you couldn’t quite figure out what you needed so desperately at this time late at night. You slowly got out of bed and slowly opened the door to the living room, hoping to walk off the sudden rush of energy keeping you awake. The moment you opened the door, however, you were welcomed to a tall, dark figure standing right in front of you. Spooked by the arrival of the shadow, you quickly grabbed a flashlight and shone the light right at the figure to reveal a tall man with grey hair and golden yellow eyes. It was your boyfriend, Tomas. He was waiting for you this entire time. He stands up on his two feet, slowly walking over to you, inspecting your delicious scent and small frame. He sniffs your hair and smiles delightfully as he exhales in pleasure. His tallness both scares you and excites you at the same time, as if desire were grabbing you by the throat and your mind tried to resist, but your heart kept begging for it. A few moments later, he starts to twitch lightly into a partially wolf-like transformation, with wolf ears growing from his head, a tail forming out of his lower back, and his feet morphing into hind legs, all while he moans and writhes in pleasure on all fours. Once he’s finished, he stands up on two feet again, taller than before, completely in the zone. You trip over your own desire, falling down on the floor with only your elbows holding you up. Licking his lips sensually, he comes down to your eye level on all fours again, slowly crawling up to you. Your eyes widen in both fear and excitement as he draws closer, and you could feel wetness between your legs the moment he touches you. He can’t believe it. You’re already wet for him? How cute. You’re wet enough for him to fill you with his pups in an instant…

His claws tear through your pyjamas, revealing your squishy chest, and he starts to lick the sensitive nipples of yours like a hungry dog. Your head spins at the sensation, and you wrap your arms around his back, as if to tell him to dig deeper into the feeling. He bites at your nipple playfully, leaving a dark mark onto the spot. Tomas then moves up to your neck, marking and biting the airways, making you whine and squirm at the feeling. A few minutes of placing marks down your throat later, he slowly plants his bites closer and closer to your drooling clit. He enjoys the aromatic smell of your clit as he slowly digs his nose into the scent of you, sniffing it gently before lapping up the wetness of your pussy. You whimper loudly in pleasure as the sensation of his wet tongue inside of your pussy becomes more and more pleasurable, with you grasping his head of short hair closer to your sensitive hole. As he laps up your pussy desperately, an itching sensation to fully give in to desire dwells in his mind, causing him to pause his action and resume his transformation. His nose grew into a big snout, and fur grew out of his skin rapidly. You could not help but feel even more excited as he mutated into an even bigger, furrier creature. It’s almost impossible to believe he’s either human nor wolf no more, as his hind legs remained bipedal and muscular frame swelled in size. Tomas hunches over to your level, grabbing your legs and holding you right into a mating press position. His giant monster cock slides right inside you, as you whine effortlessly at the feeling of his now enormous cock fucking in and out of your puffy clit. He growls in your face as you beg to him for more, sliding against you at a violent speed as the sound of your pussy squelching fills his ears. He leans down slightly and pulls you close to lick your face before cum shoots outside of his cock and into your clit, and the sensation of his milky semen makes you cum as well. He doesn’t stop, however, as he continues to milk you through your greedy ass clitoris, while your seeds start to drip out onto the wooden floor. Turns out you’re not going anywhere until his heat has diminished. Your mind goes completely blank at the sensation, pussy puffy and wet. A while later, after him scratching through your skin and biting your flesh, he lets of your legs, letting drop down to the floor as his cock softens inside of you. Tomas slowly, but while twitching, slides his seed out of your limp body. He then slowly yet painfully morphs into a regular wolf, and lays his head onto your lap and falls asleep, still with the white mess all over the floor. You could not help but smile softly as he lay next to you calmly, and you, with all the strength you had left, carried him to the bedroom and laid him onto your bed. Let’s hope he isn’t too embarrassed when he finds out what he did last night!